


Fire and Wine

by TheAdamantDaughter



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fluff, Smut, Zutara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAdamantDaughter/pseuds/TheAdamantDaughter
Summary: 'All I want is you.’ Several nights ago, when she’d asked what he wanted for his birthday, that’d been Zuko’s answer. It sounded cliche now that he thought about it. He really only wanted her… in the comfort of their home. But Katara had missed the hint of homebody in his voice, rightfully assuming that he wanted her how he had her on any other special occasion - out on the town, dressed to the nines.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in part by the anonymous ask, 'Zuko and Katara having birthday sex.'

Maybe he was being foolish. He should’ve guessed, knowing Katara, that his hands would be stuffed _full_  of boxes and bags. Between the assorted tissue paper and decorative bows - that he had  _no doubt_ she’d made herself - he’d never have the opportunity to present a gift of his own.

It was burning a hole in his pocket, weighing him down, and sending his heart into a fluttery flurry every time his palm found the square lump against his thigh. 

Maybe he should’ve done it earlier… 

 _‘All I want is you.’_  Several nights ago, when she’d asked what he wanted for his birthday, that’d been Zuko’s answer. It sounded cliche now that he thought about it. 

He  _really_  only wanted her… in the comfort of their home. But Katara had missed the hint of homebody in his voice, rightfully assuming that he wanted her how he had her on any other special occasion - out on the town, dressed to the nines.

She was,  _per usual_ for their two year relationship, throwing a wrench in his plans. 

Maybe he should’ve made it clearer… _insisting_  that they stay home… with a fire and some wine and a few less articles of clothing. Though, she did look splendid. 

Zuko looked over the dimly lit table, holding a new sweater to his chest absentmindedly. Their plates were half-eaten, abandoned in favor of birthday gifts. The white china blended in with the crisp table cloth, which had gold embroidery throughout and a poinsettia in the center. Two small candles flickered on either side of the flowers, though the table was lit by the pendant hanging above them. To the right of Katara’s plate, a wine glass held the remnants of the fruity House Zinfandel. His glass had long been emptied… However, he had a reason to be drinking. One glance at her almost had him calling the waiter over for  _more._

Katara’s hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, the ends of which cascaded around her shoulders in waves of chocolate. She’d purchased a new outfit for the evening - a long sleeve, low cut maxi. It was royal blue, which clashed elegantly with her dark skin. He liked the dress. It showed off her collarbones… and she seemed bent on drawing his attention to her chest  _every time_  she reached for her mother’s pendant. Her fingers toyed with the stone now. 

Zuko followed the movement up to her lips, where the roguish lines lifted into half a smile, then to her eyes.  _Goddamn_ , he wanted to marry her. He swallowed tightly, letting the blue wool fall into the pile of tissue paper in his lap. 

“Thanks, Babe.” 

“Do you not like it?” Blue eyes ran up the front of him, finally meeting his soft gaze. “ _Ugh,_ you don’t like it. I knew you wouldn’t… you have a hundred sweaters already. I just- well, I thought you needed this-”

He shook his head, cutting off what he knew would be a nervous tirade. She always twisted up into a jittery mess on important days like this. “No, it’s perfect! I like it.” 

“Then what’s that look?” 

“What look?” 

Katara’s brow quirked, matching the upward path his was making in an attempt to appear coy. “That look -  _your_ look. You make that same face for three reasons, and three reason only.” 

“I have no reasons.” Zuko discarded the contents in his lap, stuffing the sweater and paper into a nearly full gift bag beside his chair. If he weren’t trying to maintain a flat expression, he’d chuckle at her persistence to find him the perfect gift. A new watch, two new sweaters, a pair of pants, and a tie. Katara always complained that he was hard to shop for, but she had little trouble finding things to buy him. 

She never missed her target on the sentimental side, however. Beneath the material items, Zuko had nestled a small jar filled with  _three-hundred-and-sixty-five scraps of paper…_ each listing a handwritten reason she loved him. He couldn’t keep the smile from his lips. It spread slowly, reaching his eyes when he settled his elbows on the edge of the table. 

“I don’t make a face, Kat.” 

“You don’t make a face. You make _the_  face.” She smirked, reaching out for his hand. He happily offered it to her, tracing a pattern along her knuckles with his thumb. “When you’re stressed - that’s one time it shows up. Your eyes go all spacy and you look a million miles away. Then, when you’re sleepy or we’ve just had sex, you give me this same face, but it’s not so spacy.” 

“What is it, then?”

“Dreamy. And, finally, when you’re thinking… usually about me… It’s the same face.” Katara rested her chin in her free palm. “I’m going to guess, given that you had coffee at seven and we aren’t naked, that  _your look_ is due to rampant thoughts about me.” 

Zuko blanched, realizing he’d been caught red handed. “That’s technically four reasons.” 

Katara’s head tilted to the side. 

“You said I make this face for three reasons,” he held up his fingers, counting for her as he spoke, “but you listed stress, sleepiness, sex, and thinking. That’s four.” 

“Oh, _shut up!”_

His smile split into a grin, partly from the way her laugh filled the air and partly from an overwhelming relief. 

The last thing he needed was her guessing why he’d been staring dreamily over the dinner table. It wouldn’t be that hard, honestly. 

Everyone else seemed on to him. Their waiter was eyeing the table from across the room and gossip about the handsome couple flourishing around them. They’d been asked if they wanted champagne, or a perhaps, a piece of chocolate cake. Zuko waved off the offers, but once again, he was beginning to doubt his entire plan. 

_How could she **not**  expect it?_

Last week, Katara accused him of being flighty. Considering how many canceled plans he’d racked up between Wednesday and Saturday, she wasn’t entirely off base. It was all for a good cause, of course. Sokka had snuck into town and helped Zuko pick out a ring, an event that took them no less than four days to complete. Then, on top of his frequent absences, Hakoda had been ringing  _constantly._

_How was she still in the dark?_

Zuko sighed, and waved for the check. Maybe he should wait.

* * *

Zuko heard bare feet pattering against the kitchen floor, but it was a muted laugh that pulled his attention from the pantry. “How’s Merlot sound?” 

“Two glasses at dinner wasn’t enough?” 

“I thought we could sit by the fire,” he came out with a bottle of red, grimacing at the thought of the ring still in his pocket, “and talk  _or_   _something.”_

Katara drifted towards him, half smiling. She’d changed from her dress to one of his t-shirts and her hair was now down and free. “You know, we don’t have to sit by the fire to get to  _‘something.’”_

“This… this something is rather important.” 

“More important that your final present?” Her fingers walked up his sleeves to his tie, which she tugged loose in a few deft movements. Katara plucked at the buttons on his shirt and her intentions were made explicitly clear when her palm brushed over the front of his pants.“Don’t you know your birthday earns you a blow job?” 

“I got one yesterday,” he protested, though it was rather weak. 

Katara had this sinful look that set his heart racing, and the way she undid his belt with an eager lick of her lips… His golden eyes widen when she lowered to her knees. 

“I just want a taste, Zuko.” 

She tugged his zipper, pulling his pants and his boxers down to his ankles. She stroked him slowly and her wine stained tongue swirled the tip- once, twice, three times. 

He watched, mesmerized, then hissed,  _“Kat.”_

Little time was wasted between that and her lips wrapping around his cock. Katara took him in, her mouth hot and wet, with her hand making up the space her tongue couldn’t reach. She worked up a rhythm, sucking and stroking him, until virtually all worries of the ring in his pocket were forgotten. 

 _Fuck,_  she was good.

His free hand gripped the counter, his other twisting through her hair, guiding the pace to something desperate. She was humming and moaning around his length, driving him insane with the vibrations. When his grunts shifted to pleas, Katara slowed down, lathing him up from base to tip. 

Zuko’s eyes fluttered shut _.“God-“_

Her mouth left his cock with final, hard suck and his frustrated groan was cut off by her lips on his. 

“I want you,” she demanded, freeing him of his unbuttoned shirt.  _“Please.”_

Zuko stumbled free of his pants, then pressed her against the counter while dragging her top overhead. There nothing underneath- save for smooth mocha skin and round breasts. His thumb circled a nipple, coaxing it to a hard bud. 

Her hands on his waist pushed him back, but they didn’t make it further than the dining room chairs. He sank down, with her straddling him. Her fingers moved with his through slick folds, circling her clit, then drew up to his lips. He sucked greedily, tasting what could only be an heady mix of sweetness and sea. 

He kissed up to her ear, growling, “I  _need_  you.” 

She obliged, teasing as she always did with these light, rapid thrusts. When her hips finally met his, and a sigh escaped them both, his hands raced up her back. He held her close, drinking in every inch of skin he could reach- her neck, her chest, her breasts. 

They moved in tandem, with him rising and her falling and a mix of heavy breaths between their lips. His name was whispered like a prayer and hers, hers was all he knew. It danced across his tongue, flitted through the air, and rushed out through grit teeth when they found their release. 

“Kat, I love you.” 

She stilled against him, her limbs trembling, “And I love you.” 

A modicum of smiles and gentle kisses were shared between the two, followed by her leaving him stunned and weak in the chair. 

Zuko watched her go, staring sleepily, but his grin broadened when she returned. She’d tossed his t-shirt on again, and in her hands, Katara held his pants and the wine. 

“There’s that face again. It’s the post-sex face this time.” 

He laughed, taking his clothes from her. “And I see that you’ve decided a night by the fire  _is_  a good idea,”

Zuko stood lazily and slid the pants on, surreptitiously running his hands down the front in search of the familiar lump. Maybe, with all her gifts out of the way, he’d finally have the chance to- A jolt of fear yanked through him. 

_The ring was gone._

Zuko looked down now, nearly blind with panic, and patted the pockets again. Then his fingers flew to the seat of his pants, but still, no lump, no box, no ring. Swallowing and red in the face, he asked his girlfriend, “Katara, you didn’t-” 

“-go through your pants?” 

She was smiling nervously when their eyes met, the black velvet case extended towards him. 

“It fell out,” Katara explained, “when I picked them up. I promise I didn’t know until… _well.”_

He took the ring from her, clutching it in a clammy fist. “I wanted to do it by the fire.” 

“You still can, love.” 

Something about that statement sent a renewed hope through him. The disappointment that maybe he’d butchered the entire night disappeared. Even it wasn’t what he’d envisioned, if it was done without the buzz of wine and a pile of blankets on the living room floor, he still had a chance. He could still ask. The obvious excitement in her eyes, the unbridled love that lingered there, told him her answer was most certainly a  _‘yes.’_

Zuko took her hand, leading her from the kitchen to the dark hearth. It wasn’t glowing like he wanted and his legs shook far more than he expected, but dropping to one knee right then was the easiest thing in the world. 

Bright blue eyes looked down at him, not seeing the lackluster room or his shirtless state…  _just him._

“Kat,” he murmured, hardly knowing where to begin but so certain that _this_  would be their beginning, “Kat, I love you. I’ve loved you for years.” 

She nodded, gripping his fingers and willing him on.

“The first time you came over, that December two years ago, we talked for hours in front of this hearth. I- I’ve never been so taken aback as I am by your beauty.” Zuko licked his lips, feeling the tears come and burn and finally spill. “You’ve done for me what no one else could; you healed me and you loved me and you _still_ love me.”

“More everyday.”

“I’ll never understand why, but I know I don’t ever want it to stop. I want you, my sweet Moonpeach-” They chuckled together at the old nickname- “Katara, will you marry me?” 

“Zuko,”  She sniffled before tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “ _Of course,_  I will.” 

He didn’t need to stand because she came him. Their foreheads pressed together, and between kisses and stammered words, Zuko slipped the ring onto her finger. 

“When should we do it?” she asked, admiring the diamond but for a moment. Katara’s eyes were on his again, alight and wild. “In the fall? It’s our favorite season.” 

Zuko pecked her nose, “Whenever you want. I’m already yours.”  


End file.
